Needless to say Marilyn Monroe didn't pop out of a cake and sing “happy birthday Mr. President” to me, although that's mainly because I'm the secretary of the GSA instead of the President.
This year my birthday came and pass with little announcement of it on my blog. It was a Saturday. Last year I started my YouTube channel, which will be returning this summer. I'm still not sure if I'm excited about that. I was school and blogged out. I just didn't have it in me to write an extra article celebrating my birthday.
My father forgot it was my birthday. At first I thought he didn't know the exact day. Then, I told him. He still wasn't sure. To be fair there are a lot of family birthdays in this month. My mother, two of my nephews, one niece. For some reason everyone felt this was the time of year to push a living life form out of their vagina.
Of course we recovered. My mother brought out my birthday present. It was wrapped and when I opened it I found a shaving apparatus within the loins of the ribbon and paper. I've honestly never been happier in my life.
I made the decision to stay home for the day. Luxuriate in me time. Maybe spend a little time with the dog. The parents both went out grocery shopping. They asked if I wanted to go. Clearly I didn't.
And, it was somewhere during this time and a brief phone call with my father regarding what kind of toppings I would like on my pizza, that I was dragged out of the house. I was informed that I couldn't “sulk feeling sorry for myself on birthday” and I said to her, “but that's what I normally do on the weekends.”
The day was quite lovely. I put on sun block, got lost in another state as one does, and really had such a lovely time. We heard a little live music. People always say that music has the ability to transport you to a different place and that Meghan Trainor would make them leave the cafe. I just want you to know that isn't true. I would stand in the rain and the mud for my favorite heteronormative icon. And, if you throw a little Yo Gotti in there, what can top it?
My 20th may have been a messy day, but a picture of me was posted on instagram. I got a few likes on a pictures and I'm this much closer to death and being able to legally buy a 2 liter bottle of vodka.